Walking into the Sagamore Pendry last night I was preceded by five assholes. Well, one of them held the door for me. The other four were assholes.
Bare in mind that the Sagamore Pendry is on par with the Harbor Court, i.e. one of the best hotel/restaurants in the City if not the country.
I was there to find a female bartender to request an interview for an absurd short story I'm writing. They were there to whoop and hollar like hyenas as they walked through the wood paneled halls and into the lush bar where they hollered for yet another asshole who'd come in looking for them. Frankly, I'm surprised none of them were wearing baseball caps backwards.
I thought, "Dudes… you're, what, late 20s? Early 30s? Some of you have rings on your fingers, probably children. Shouldn't that tell you you're NOT in f*cking college anymore? You want to act like asshole hyenas go to The Horse You Came In On. Here? Have some f*cking class."
Lucky me, I happened to sit at the only available table which was next to theirs. I was flanked on the other side by three grey haired men trying to outdo each other with stories of their past sexual conquests in rather crude terms. That was worse than the college man-boys.
I left and went to Rye where the amazing Perez greeted me and poured me a Red Stag with a little ice. The lovely Noel will be working tomorrow night and I hope to catch up with her to schedule an interview for my absurd short story. I'll try the Sagamore some other night when college man-boys are usually home under the pretense of adulthood.
(Special thanks to Stevie Ray Vaughn who assuaged my own pretension with Texas Flood as I drove home.)